Haunted Firehouse
by JiaPryor
Summary: JONAS; After Volunteer Fireman William Smith committed murder and suicide to his two brothers and himself, his legend lives on. A century later, Joe and Stella unearth his legend. William Smith beckons for a soul... Nick's soul.
1. Chapter 1

**October 31, 1902**

_He laughed manically as his fingers toyed with the taut skin of his brother's neck. Blood poured out in an effusion, staining the crazed young man's hands._

"_That's what happens when you play with fire. You should know better by now." William's words were rushed as he swiftly spoke to his eldest brother. "Charles, Charles, Charles." He clicked his tongue to the hard palate on the roof of his mouth. "My dearest Charlie boy." _

_With the knife delicately residing in the palm of his left hand, his right hand's phalanges pulled the jagged flaps of skin on his brother's neck. "So comforting," he murmured to himself. Abruptly, a muffled scream tore William's attention away from his murdered brother. He directed his gaze to his second oldest brother whom was tied with twine to the fire pole._

"_Did… did I hear something?" William inquired cynically. As soon as the last syllable was uttered from his lips, his animate sibling, john, screamed again, but the razors cut his jaws. His body trembled with pure loathing and unsettlement as William gradually approached. "I guess not." _

_He bent down and carefully cupped his brother's cheeks in his opened palm. "John, our big brother wasn't the best, now was he?" This time, no response was given. William laughed again, and it resonated within the empty confinements of the firehouse station. Still cackling, he managed to mutter, "You killed her." The volume of William's voice was, and soon he was hollering, exasperated, "You killed the love of my life. Joan was talented… beautiful," he took a breath, his chest rapidly rising and falling, "and she loved me!" With every word, William forcefully attacked his own chest with his fists. John visibly cringed, and William took immediate notice. He brought his mouth to John's ear. "You lit her on fire." Several droplets of tears were now cascading down both brothers' cheeks. _

_Abruptly, William ceased his talking and slid down, allowing his feet to dangle within the circumference of the golden pole. He swung his feet and hummed a tune. "'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free. 'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be. And when we find ourselves in the place just right…" his voice cracked as he sustained the higher note that his voice had delved to find. He suddenly cut off his singing and cackled. _

_William wrapped his rough, calloused hands around the pole and pulled himself closer while wrapping his legs around. The murderer slid down, smirking maliciously. A rusted, tin can with intricate signs lay, discarded, on the ground. Carefully, grasping it within his pal, m he pulled his back up, just as erect as the pole. _

"_Death sentence." He grazed his tongue over his chapped lips and repeated once more, "Death sentence." While he contemplated the actions he would have to go through to arrive the actual meaning of the words, the lid was gradually being pried open. Inside, rows of matches lay, tightly packed together. "Sentence of death." He rearranged the ordering of the words and his hands lightly ran across the coarse matches. _

_He hurriedly threw the container on the ground and the orderly row of matches became a disarray on the floor. Cautiously, he picked up one and swiped against the wooden table next to him._

_The flame brilliantly danced on the tip of the match, its vibrant colors illuminating his face. William tucked on hand into the pocket of his worn overalls. The other hand lowered the ignited match to the hem of his pants. "I'll see you real soon, Joan, my dear. Nobody can tear us apart," the man said hysterically. His eyes were glazed over and insanity along with despair and anger were present within his orbs as well. He was corrupted by an intentionally cruel act on the innocent: his soon to be wife. _

_He titled his head upwards and could see his live brother futilely struggling against his restraints. William released his hold on the match. In result, John's attempts quickened in pace. The fire traveled quickly up his body, horribly singeing his pale skin. The table beside him suddenly was alight with the flames; they swiftly engulfed the catalyst in the situation. His body fell to the ground and his lower torso was engulfed within the fire. Beads of seat ran profusely down his forehead. _

"_One for all; all for one," Volunteer Fireman William Smith stammered calmly before the fire completely enveloped his body and made its way, destroying the firehouse. _

_**Ashes, ashes, they all fall down **_

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**Review? It would be wonderful if you would! ;) **

**Until then, my wonderful readers!**


	2. Chapter 2

**October 31, 1995**

_A petite girl of about six years entered the house through the front door, adorned with a small backpack that lightly rested over her shoulders. Her blonde hair, cut short, swung as she excitedly began chatting with her friend of the same age._

_"Joe… my mommy said that we could go outside in the backyard and play treasure hunting before we go trick-or-treating!" Her voice raised in volume as she grew more enthusiastic. Missing teeth were evident as her grin stretched._

_The young boy's eyes widened and gleamed happily. His black hair contrasted greatly against his slightly tan skin. "Stella, really?" Joe skeptically questioned. Even for a six year old, he was aware when people were lying to him._

_Stella nodded her head immediately in response. Joe stared at her momentarily before a smile etched on his face. "Let me go tell my mom," Joe said as he grabbed Stella's wrist and dragged her along behind him. The two ended up in the living room where Joe's parents were residing._

_"Mom!" Joe hollered. As he was expecting, all of the attention in the room was on him. "Can Stella and I go to her house and play outside? Her mom said yes."_

_Both children sprouted pouts on their faces in hopes of easily getting the parents to agree. Denise and Paul nodded their heads simultaneously, and Joe and Stella squealed in excitement. Reaching out for Stella's hand once again, Joe raced to the front door where they were met with a toddler. His hair was in curly wisps and pristine white teeth showed when he grinned at his older brother._

_"Hey, Nicky. What are you doing?" Stella asked the three year old. Nick's face remained in its previous state, but this time, he walked over to Joe and took his hand. Nick then headed in the direction of the door as well, struggling to bring Joe who still had his hand latched to Stella's._

_The youngest of the trio spoke up. "I go too." His light brown orbs flickered back and forth between Joe and Stella._

_"You're too young!" Joe protested. He just wanted it to be him and Stella; he didn't want the responsibility of watching over his younger brother. His thick eyebrows furrowed together as he snatched his hands away from Stella and Nick's and crossed them over his chest. "You can't go with us; you're too small, Nick."_

_Nick whimpered in response as he dejectedly peered at the hand that had previously held Joe's momentarily ago. A small line of blood seeped from the scratch that Joe had accidentally made on the surface of his little brother's skin. Nick's bottom lip quivered before his soft-spoken voice began to talk, "Joey, you gave me boo-boo." A pool of tears gathered in his mini brown orbs._

_Joe, as an indignant six year old, crossed his arms and slightly tilted his head upwards, ignoring his younger brother. "Then go tell Mommy and Daddy, Nick. Go back to them. Me and Stella wanna go play!" His tone shocked Nick, who, in turn, swiped at Joe's hand that was dangling, and then exited the room, crying loudly. Unnoticed by Joe, the slim trail of blood remained on his hand._

_"Joseph," Stella chastised, "that was mean. Nicky just wanted to play with us."_

_Joe released an exasperated sigh and pulled Stella out the front door. Together, they ran across the sidewalk to Stella's house, where she began to lead Joe in the direction of her backyard. "My mom and dad got some new big boxes from the new TV's…. we can roll down the hill in them! Right, Joe?"_

_Joe nodded his head fervently at Stella's suggestion. The two went around the side of the house and retrieved the gargantuan box that towered over the both of their miniature sized bodies. Together, the two dragged the box to the top of the hill in Stella's backyard and crawled inside. Innocently, Joe laid on his back while Stella laid on top of him, and they wrapped their arms around each other. In time, Stella propelled her body to the side to begin their descent down the hill._

_The box "rolled" down the hill, with the two children inside, squealing and revealing their mouth of missing teeth. Soon enough, the box halted and Joe and Stella cautiously climbed out._

_"Everything's so spinn-y," Stella commented._

_Joe chuckled and vigorously shook his head. "The world is upside down." Joe then stumbled around the tree roots, and it resulted in him falling. When he looked down, he noticed a thick, dirt encrusted book. Curiously, he flipped open a few pages, accidentally smearing the residue of Nick's blood over the page. Joe ignored it and continued to gaze until he felt Stella tugging on a lock of his raven locks._

_"Huh?" he asked._

_"Let's go get ready," Stella replied while scratching her head. She maneuvered her headband around which left her hair in wisps of golden tresses._

_Joe stood up and grabbed the book along with him._

_"Whatcha got there?" Stella inquired. Joe merely shrugged in response and stuffed the bulging book further up his shirt as if it was not evident where its location was._

_The two friends made their way into their separate houses, Stella going in and immediately changing into her costume, and Joe retuning inside and hiding the book into a secretive location. He then went to get ready to go trick or treating with his brothers, Kevin and Nick._

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**WHO WANTS TO REVIEW? Ha. I KNOW you do. So, here's the thing: I'm currently writing the next chapter, but my brain if funky, which means that I keep getting ideas that DON'T fit with the story. And because of that, I wander off to write something else, which is completely irrevelant to the topic of a "Haunted Firehouse."**

**Oh! I'm a sucky updater. I try, but it's like I can never finish anything. I try, I really do. _But reviews DO encourage me to write a better contented, longer chapter!_**

**Until then, my loves, **

**- Jia**


	3. Chapter 3

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******CHAPTER THREE: **

**A/N:**_Okay, I was transfering files from my computer to laptop, and I noticed that this story had three chapters. I was like, WTF? I don't remember writing a third chapter. So, I clicked on it and discovered that I had a third chapter written out._

It's short, and for that, I'm really sorry. But I hope you enjoy!

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**October 31, 2010- Present**

"You look a bit tired, Nick. Are you okay?" Joe asked, sitting himself down next to me at the counter. I sighed in response and turned my head in the opposite direction of my brothers.

Out of my peripheral vision, I saw Kevin nudge Joe in his bicep. "Way to be discreet about it," he whispered rather loudly.

"Just a bit tired," I answered, slightly smirking. I put my head down on the top of the counter and winced at a cramp in my stomach. _At least I know I can't get pregnant,_ I joked inside of my head. "I couldn't sleep well last night. I don't know why."

Kevin scoffed. "Likely story." I heard his footsteps make their way towards me. He placed the back of his hand on my cheek. "Hmmm, no fever, at least, not yet. Come on over to the table, I have something to show you guys."

I groaned and reluctantly got up and followed my brothers over about seven feet to the dining table. Spread out were several cameras, what looked to be like glow-in-the-dark wands, books, and flashlights. I spoke up. "I take you're going to be some technician for Halloween, Kev?"

My eldest brother—God knows I don't understand how—giddily shook his head.

"No? Well then..." I pondered for a moment to come up with some reasonable explanation as to why these gadgets were on the table, but no matter how hard I searched, I found nothing. "What is this for then?"

"Oh, come on, Nick! Does there have to be a reason for everything?" Joe retorted as he started to prod the equipment.

"Typically," I began as I stuffed my hands inside of my pockets, "yes, Joseph."

"Jerry," Kevin stated as I shot him a menacing look, "I think you'll be happy to know that there is, indeed, a reason for these high-tech items. It's ghost hunting equipment!"

I stared at him for a mere moment before bending over and laughing. It was overdramatic, but I wanted to get my point across. "Whoo! Oh gosh, Kevin, that was a good one."

"He's just being seasonal, Nick. Gosh, get with the program," Joe shot out.

"Guys, there are no such things as ghosts. This so called paranormal," I paused to use air quotes to surround the last word, "activity isn't logical. Reincarnation as some transparent being?" I scoffed while crossing my arms over my chest. "It's bogus if you ask me." I fingered my curls, and an involuntary shiver made its way down my spine.

Joe picked up one of the many items Kevin had placed on the table. "Thanks for your input, Nicholas. Kev and I appreciate it loads."

"_I_ don't appreciate your sarcasm," I retorted. I moved over to the table and stood beside Joe. He casually picked up a camcorder and smirked a bit. "Kevin spent—what?—about two hundred dollars on this? Just ridiculous."

"Nick, it's not ridiculous. It's something called _protection_. It's Halloween; the ghost of Volunteer Fireman William Smith has been said to come out. I, quite frankly, don't want to die. What's up with you being so…bitter? Are you high?"

I snorted at Kevin's response. "High?" I repeated. "I'm sorry that I don't find it amusing that you wasted money on some… ghost gear or whatever with a lousy sticker on it. Dude. You could have done something way better with it."

Kevin glared at me, but I ignored it. Abruptly, he slammed the thick book he was holding down onto the table.

"What..?" I started, but Kevin interrupted me.

"Joe, are you with Mr. Logical here, or do you choose to be protected from being possessed? Choose very wisely."

Joe nervously glanced between Kevin and me. He took a sideways step in Kevin's direction. My hands flew up in frustration.

"Fine!" I exclaimed. "You two can do whatever the hell you want. I, on the other hand, am going to go lay down. Talk to me when you guys have grown up."

"At least we're not boring prudes like you!" Joe shouted as I made my way up the spiral staircase.

"At least I'm not wasting money on something as ridiculous as that!" I hollered back before I slammed the door our room. Frustrated, I quickly walked over to the set of remotes and chose the one to lift the drum set. As it was being lifted, I tossed the remote on Joe's bed and made my way to mine.

I immediately froze mid stride. There was an awful odor in the air. The odd thing was, it hadn't been there a few seconds ago. As I grew closer to my bed, I felt the temperature fluctuate some. "Stupid old house," I muttered to myself.

"It's not so stupid, is it now, child?" I heard a voice say. Before I knew it, my ankle was grasped tightly, and I was pulled down on my bed. I had no time to react. Suddenly, I saw matches levitating in the air. I blinked my eyes several times to be sure that my vision wasn't faltering. A match was abruptly lit and was being waved threateningly in front of my face. I sunk my head deeper in the pillows to avoid the dancing flames.

The same voice began to speak again, but this time, the tone held more anger. "Good. You're already on your death bed!"

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**A/N: It's extremely lame, and I'm very sorry for that. I'll try to update sooner, but school is kicking my ass now.**

Review please?


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